Wings Of Salvation
by Zenith2202
Summary: She was like him once. A victim of the darkness, but then someone showed her how to change her destiny; and now, she was going to show him the same things.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own any of the characters other then my OC Sophira Johnson_

 **A/N:** _So I came up with the idea for this story the other day and decided to write it out and publish it. A little disclaimer- this is the first story that I've uploaded so I apologise if the quality isn't too great and any constructive criticism would be welcome but please be polite- I'm a awkward little human. Anyway I hope everyone enjoys._

* * *

She had discovered a simple joy in sitting on window ledge for a few minutes everyday after waking up, observing the city while it hummed and buzzed into life below her.

It was, in a way strange.

To gaze upon the streets below; Tasting the energy, drinking it in, savouring the undiluted flavors that wafted up to her window in pulsating waves from the living breathing community of people that resided below her.

She would gaze down on the small portion of the world below her, watching the people walk down the streets, all going at different paces, all trying to achieve different goals and all completely oblivious to the white haired girl, sitting on the ledge of a window, at the very top of the grand hotel.

Until the day that someone wasn't oblivious and for the every first time;

She was noticed.

* * *

She had picked him out of the crowd the moment he came into view, her enhanced eye sight picking up on things that others could not, both in the physical and spiritual world. He was dressed in a formal black uniform that stood out from the bright coloured clothing of those around him, his blond curls neatly framed his head and as he walked the crowd seemed to split down the middle, making way for him as he passed through. His energy seemed to blow away the others, it was overwhelmingly strong, twisting the air around him, its chaotic nature devouring the lesser forces around it.

And without warning, he paused and his head shot up.

She could feel his gaze on her, searing into her, looking into the dark corners of her mind and soul in order to see her darkest thoughts, secrets and desires.

Unfortunately for him, her soul was shrouded away, blocked from his view.

He raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows, a slight smirk on his face.

He could sense that she was different, not entirely human, just as she knew that he wasn't overly human either. She looked down at him, maroon tainted lips stretching into a grin; before she swung her legs around and dropped back into the room, her black spiral leg stiletto heels clicking against the grey floors as she exited her room and continued down the penthouse hallway, the long back of the black, chiffon dress flowing behind her as she glided unnaturally fast down the hallway, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator, tapping into the energy that simmered just under her skin, the second the door to the stairwell closed, using it to send herself down multiple floors in the blink of an eye, before exiting the stairwell on the second floor of the lobby.

She could sense his energy outside the walls of the hotel, it was like a beacon, burning and fizzing, she could see it like a pinprick on a map when she closed her eyes, and she could feel it growing stronger, sparking through the building as he entered.

She walked past the barren bar, not an uncommon site for the time of the day, Liz and Iris would be in the back behind the counter, check in wasn't for another hour and any one of the guests (who actually had stuff to do with their lives other then drink and smoke weed all day and night) had wandered out in their backpacks and polo shirts hours ago, making the lobby devoid of life, except for the blond boy in black who strolled through the Hotel Cortez as if he owned the place.

She hoisted herself up onto the rail that lined the balcony and swung her legs around, letting the momentum carry her over the golden fence so that she was falling down to the ground floor, landing silently in a crouch before rising and walking towards the boy as if she had simply jumped down the stairs instead of having free fallen down two stories and landed in five inch heels.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" her voice rang out, as delicate as a silver bell. She grinned at the boy as he turned around, his brilliant blue eyes looked her over, not lingering on any particular part of her, before coking his head slightly to the side. "Sophira Johnson" she told him extending her hand that he wearily shook.

"Michael Langdon" he replied

"Well Michael; I'm assuming your not just here to try the martinis".

"No" he answered smoothly "I'm here to collect a witch that lives here".

"Queenie?" she answered, peridot green eyes twinkling with mirth as the boy nodded in confirmation. " you are aware that she's dead right"

"yes I do" he told her

"well then, I'll help you find her, she should be in her room being forced into playing cards but you never know" she shrugged moving towards the elevator, not giving him anytime to object.

"why would you help me?" he questioned her

"well, its either escort you or go back up to the penthouse for a dress fitting and be stuck full of pins and needles; personally I think you're the lesser of two evils" she chuckled lightly at the irony of what she was saying "now as for Queenie; what do you want with her anyway, not many people find a use for the dead"

"I need her in order to prove a point" he glanced down at her as she entered the elevator and selected the fourth floor.

"A point" she said, raising her eyebrow at him, "what point"

"I need to prove to the supreme that I'm powerful enough to take the test of the seven wonders and to do that I need to get her attention" he said, his honey dipped voice in light agitation at her questions but also in curiosity of the strange girl, whose magic tingled against his skin, the familiarity of it making goosebumps rise on his arms.

"Supreme huh," she said thoughtfully "now, just one last question" she smirked at him as the elevator chimed, signalling their arrival.

"Yes" he sighed, watching her closely as she stepped out into the halls, taking a few steps down the hall, all whilst continuing to grin up at him, her eyes twinkling in amusement, like a child who knew something her parents didn't.

"Why is Lucifer's son hanging around a bunch of witches?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: hey everyone, just a huge thank you to those who liked and Favorited the story it really means a lot and i hope that everyone will continue to enjoy reading wings of salvation_

 _disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or their story lines other then my oc Sophira_

* * *

His emotions were more controlled then she had originally expected them to be; the only reaction he gave was the slightest widening of his eyes, that he lowered after half a second. Slowly he walked forward, blue eyes locked perfectly onto green, as he came to a halt a foot before her.

"I have no idea what your talking about" he said firmly and smoothly, raising himself to his full height and gazed down at her, eyes steeled as he starred deeply into her green orbs.

"your lying" she said simply "I can hear it in your voice, you know exactly what I'm talking about" she stepped closer to him, voice lowering into a whisper so that only the two of them could hear, a secret shared between the two of them. "your surrounded by chaotic energy, it lingers around you like a bad smell and no matter how hard you try and suppress it, it's going to continue to grow stronger and then your little witchy friends will be figure something out"

It took less then a second for him to have her pinned up against the wall, the loud thud from the impact reverberating down the hallway. He forcing her against the crème coloured walls, his large hand gripping her throat, while his other was placed beside her head, caging her in. She raised her own hand digging her fingers in between the miniscule gap the lay between her neck and his fingers and forced the gap to open slightly, effectively allowing the much needed oxygen to refill her lungs.

Inside her something revolted, it clawed at the layer of control that she had built up, desperate to push Michael away from her and gain some type of dominance over the situation. For as long as she could remember she had had a separate entity that shared her mind and body, she had referred to it as her shadow, it was something that was inescapable yet a part of her. Even from a young age it had whispered to her, putting cruel ideas in her head, telling her things no child should ever have to hear; she could never escape it, so when she was older she had forced herself to repress and block out its manipulation; ignore its heinous desires; forcing it to dwell silently in the depths of her psyche, only occasionally giving it free reign in order to quell its wants and keep it docile, almost like giving a treat to an obedient pet.

"Who are you' he hissed, blue eyes like a raging tempest, ready to destroy anything and everything in its path "your not the only one who can sense power, I can feel yours, its too strong for you to be a medium, and too dark for you to be a mere witch" His breath hit her face, goosebumps rising from the warm air hitting cool flesh.

"Your right, I'm neither of those" she said, closing her eyes as she breathed in deeply, letting just enough of her power out to force him to release her from his hold. She quickly stepped away from his grip, never letting him out of her site, "I know who you are Michael because I'm like you" she said softly to the boy who was watching her every movement, any attempt to control his expressions gone as he looked at her, face marred in a mix of confusion and shock. "now I'm assuming that your gonna want answers, cause frankly you don't seem like the type to have something you can't control running around doing who knows what" she half smiled at the boy who gave her a single nod in confirmation, which she returned before jerking her head to the side "unfortunately answers will have to wait, cause you have a witch to resurrect, come on, Queenie's down this way". She took off back down the hall, without waiting for a reply, the soft padding of his shoes against the carpet, being the only indication that he was following her.

Michael gazed apprehensively at the girl in front of him that clearly knew more then she should. Part of him wanted to exterminate her, get rid of the unpredictable variable, it would take less then a second to snap her neck and burn her remains, eliminating the possible problem. However he also felt a strong sense of curiosity towards the white-haired girl who had turned the corner and stopped next to a door that lead into room 44.

"This is the room" she told him, motioning to the beautify crafted mahogany door, reaching down to twist the golden door handle.

"wait!" he rushed out, his hand grabbing her wrist, stopping her from opening the door "how do I know that your not just going to run off and tell the witches what exactly their dealing with?"

"Here" she stepped towards him, pausing for a moment when his muscles tensed slightly "just trust me for a moment okay" she smiled reassuringly at him as she placed the fingers of her right hand together and lifted it towards her heart breathing in deeply as she uttered the incantation "Partum Vinculum Inter Nos Et Compassio Veraque" as she whispered the words, she moved her hand away from herself- fingers still locked together as if she was pulling something out of her chest- before turning it around and placing her fingers on his chest, right above his heart and spreading her fingers out to the point where her palm was resting over his thumping heart.

Michael's body froze against his will, stopping him from pulling away as her fingers touched his chest and a wave of magic spread from her hand, he could feel her power mix with his own over his chest, almost as if a small string had been tied around one of his ribs. "what did you do!?" he hissed at her as she withdrew her hand.

"relax" she said as she stepped back, giving him some room, "now close your eyes" she told him as he looked at her in disbelief. "oh come on, just do it, I couldn't hurt you much even if I wanted too". He rolled his eyes at her, before conceding and shutting them, letting the darkness fill his vision; except for the thin glowing silver line that stretched out into the darkness before ending at a glowing silver heart. "do you see it?" Sophira softly asked.

"what is that?" Michael questioned, opening his eyes "and what does It have to do with you not causing me problems?"

"it has everything to do with that" she explained "it's an empathy link, it connects you to me, so if you touch the string, you'll be able to see what I see along and visa versa".

"so I'll be able to know where you are" he concluded

"yea, exactly" Sophira confirmed "as for getting the answers, actually that's up to your really, just come at any time, I'll be wandering somewhere"

"wandering" he repeated.

"oh yea, I'm a professional wanderer, in fact you may have to come find me before I'm caught unlawfully loitering and they throw me in the slammer, I'll room with that dude that was committed for running a killer clown cult".

" She joked.

"Is that so" he raised his eyebrows at her as she chuckled lightly.

"yes, now can I open the door or would you rather stay in the hallway for the rest off eternity" she said, turning to the door as he raised his hand, using his power to silently open it. "or you could just do that" she muttered under her breath, and walking through the door, not missing the slight tilt of his lips at her remark.

It was one of the older rooms that Liz and Iris hadn't gotten around to remodelling, despite filled with unpleasant carpeting, rusting appliances and an old musty mattress that had most likely contained one or more of the addiction demons victims at some point in time .

By the window of the room sat two familiar ghosts, in the middle of playing yet another card game. The first ghost being a man who appeared to only be in his late 20's despite having been around since what felt like the dawn of time. He had short black hair was perfectly styled, along with a thin pencil moustache, and was commonly dressed in a dark blue suit with a simple white rose in his pocket, the dark colours of his outfit matching his deep brown eyes that were almost as dark as his soul, and after 36 years of life; James Patrick March had one of the darkest, most vile and corrupt souls to have ever been created.

The second ghost was a young women with short black hair with the occasional hot pink streak through her tight curls. She was dressed a lot more casually then the ghost across from her, in a simple pair of dark jeans that was paired with a rose coloured long sleeved shirt with 'fierce' printed in black and gold twice across the chest. Queenie was in retrospect one of the newer ghosts to be trapped in the Cortez, having arrived only a few months before the ghosts were banned from killing -a feat which had required many not so subtle threats-, in order to keep the authorities from shutting down the hotel before it could be labelled as a historic building.

"Ah, Sophira have you come to join us for a round of gin my dear?" March asked her

"I'm afraid I'm here for something else" She told him as she stepped to the side upon entering the room, allowing Michael to move silently past her before he came to a stop before the card table.

"My what a fascinating specimen" March said, a hint of awe evident in his voice as he gazed at the blonde boy "alive, yet so intimate with the dead".

"Who the hell are you" Queenie asked, voice full of boredom, not really caring if the boy answered her or not.

"My name is Michael Langdon" he smirked down at the witch, stepping closer and offering his hand for her to take "and I'm here to do what your supreme couldn't".

"Yea right" Queenie scoffed, as she turned back to her cards and continued to shuffle them.

"Take his hand Queenie" March told her, with a resigned look on his face, he wasn't a fool, he knew that unlike the blonde women that had tried unsuccessfully to free the girl in front of him years ago, this one would try and he would be successful.

Queenie turned her gaze back to Michael and his still outstretched hand "and what if I don't want to"

"I don't think you have a choice" he told the witch in front of him, who returned his gaze before reluctantly taking Michael's hand and pulling herself up, dropping his appendage at the first chance she got.

"be right back" she said to March as Michael let go of her hand and proceeded to walk back towards the door, slowing down briefly to nod to Sophira who stood by the bed, she nodded in return, silently confirming the twos agreement;

That he would come back and she would tell him what he wanted to know.

March sighed as the duo exited the room and continued towards the elevator "won't you stay and play a round with me, my dear" he asked the white haired girl as she went to move.

"I would but I have to go meet Will in the penthouse for a fitting" she told him, rocking on her heels.

"why, so he can put you in one of those ridiculous outfits that people wear now a days and parade you around at one of those shows that your mother likes so much" he exclaimed

"yes dad, that's exactly why" She rolled her eyes before leaving him alone in the room.

"teenagers" march huffed, rolling his eyes as the door clicked close. Slowly he reached out, dragging the pile of cards that had previously belonged to Queenie over to him "solitaire it is".


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: hey guys, just wanted to say sorry for the lack of uploads, i'm currently travelling and its been a bit harder to find time to sit down and write but i'll be home soon and updates will be more frequent after that._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own anything other then my OC- Sophira Johnson_

* * *

It wasn't until three days after the witches had returned to New Orleans that Michael left the warlocks underground school once more in order to return to infamous Hotel Cortez. Sophira hadn't lied about the strange link she had formed between them, after dark when he- along with all the warlocks- had all retired to their separate chambers; he would find himself lying in his bed inspecting the silver thread that shot out through the darkness before stopping at a small, barely visible pinprick of silver light.

During the first night, he had been against interacting with the newly placed bond, just trying to get used to the unfamiliar feeling of the faintly glowing string that felt as if it was tied around the rib that laid across his heart; it wasn't uncomfortable, but it was a new sensation and the faint warmth that it emitted unnerved him.

It was during the second night that after much internal debating he had hesitantly reached out with his magic and grasped the string. A multitude of colours flashed across his vision momentarily before vanishing and leaving him to look through a pair of eyes that weren't his own, feeling faint sparks of anger that also weren't his own.

She was moving quickly through the maze of halls, any stray ghost that wandered aimlessly through the building, quickly snuck away, phasing through walls in order to make way for her. A door at the end of the path flew open, pale ghost stepped out, her leaped patterned coat swishing around her legs, her blond hair was crimped and a cigarette hung from between her messily painted red lips. As they neared the ghost he saw Sophiras hand move out, connecting with the woman's shoulder, pushing her back, before she whipped her hand out, grabbing the thin white stick from the ghosts lips before she even knew what had happened.

"hey! what the fucks your problem!?" the ghost shouted, tear-stained face twisting in anger

"My problem Sally, is that you killed someone else, even after being specifically told not too!" Sophira hissed at the ghost

"Oh don't be such a hypocrite, you've got more blood on your hands then most of us that live in this god damn place and just because your mommy's dead now doesn't mean your free to boss everybody else around like you own the place"

At Sally's words, he felt a hot flash of anger run through Sophiras body and Michael watched as the ghosts face grew closer as Sophira leaned in, her voice lowering into a threatening whisper; "You are putting the hotel at risk of being shut down and demolished! No one knows what will happen to any of the ghosts that live here if that happens, which is why you need to grow up and start thinking or else I'm going to go find that demon your kind brought here and I'm going to tell it to only feed on you, which will inevitably keep you occupied for a while; do I make myself clear!".

"Crystal" Sally spat; her eyes glossing over with fresh tears as she glared harshly down at the shorter girl, before she drew herself back and stalked away.

Sophiras anger simmered around him, hot and burning quickly growing to the point were the only reason he knew the anger he was feeling wasn't his was due to the sadness that had welled up when Sally had made the comment about Sophira's mother; anger was a common emotion for him, but sadness was something he hadn't had the need to feel since he had left the murder house and had found a true home with Miss Mead.

There was something else stirring underneath the anger, it wasn't an emotion, more like another presence that was lurking around in the white haired girls mind; it was something dark, something not of this world, but something entirely familiar to him.

He continued to watch as she raised her hand, long elegant fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed, lulling her emotions down from their crescendo into a gentle diminuendo, the unusual presence also quieting down until it was all most impossible to sense. After a moment she dropped her hand and continued down the 1920 styled hallway towards the window that looked out onto the city; her gaze burnt into the glass as she walked right up to her reflection, her nose almost bumping into the cool surface as she looked through her peridot green eyes at the landscape below. For a few seconds she did nothing, simply continuing to stare out the window, before she suddenly cocked her head to the side, whispering to the reflection "enjoying the show are you Michael?".

It had been after that, that he had yanked himself back as if her knowing that he was there had scalded him in some way; his body shot up, chest heaving as colours swam around him once more as he came back to his own body and the bright colours were replaced with the familiar fluorescent yellow lights that filled the underground school.

He could almost feel the tinkling laughter that had escaped from her lips when he had made his grand escape resounding around his head and a humiliated fury filled his chest. This strange girl obviously had some unique form of power and physical invulnerability, two traits that could make her a great asset in his goal to utilize the witches and warlocks and bring about the apocalypse; however she also appeared to be unafraid of him meaning that she either had some serious balls, was exceptionally good at hiding her true feelings or she was just plain stupid and lacked the basic survival instinct that was deeply ingrained into any creature that had two working brain cells to rub together.

Michael sighed before rising from his bed, pausing quickly in front of the mirror to straighten out the barely visible creases in his uniform jacket, before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway and making his way down to the library, where he would be proving his ability to perform descensum in twelve days time. He was completely confident in his ability to pass the wonders, after all for a warlock the wonders would be impossible to pass, even some of the most powerful witches only manage to pass four or five of the trials before their time on earth is up, only one witch every generation-the supreme- could pass all seven wonders and its only at the coast of reigning Supremes life force; but Michael wasn't a warlock and he certainly wasn't a witch, he was the son of Satan, he had been developing the wonders since he had been in diapers; telekinetically ripping the wings off flies, using the stones in his grandmas garden to locate her 'gifts' and finally using concelium to make his many babysitters hang the mutilated animals around the house like decorations.

The more advanced gifts having developed after he had 'matured'.

The normally buzzing school was quiet as he made his way back to his room, a book on poultices in hand, it wasn't the most interesting book that resided in the library but unfortunately he had read his way through the majority of the schools books after only a month, his brain soaking up the spells and incantations like a sponge until all that was left was the books on plants and ointments.

"Michael, what are you doing up, it's quite late?" the voice of Grand Chancellor Ariel Augustus rang out, echoing slightly in the large room.

"Sorry sir, I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to get something to read" Michael answered, turning around to face the short man, raising the book in the air slightly as if to verify his claim.

"I see, just be sure to rest easy alright, can't have the next supreme passing out from exhaustion now can we" Ariel chuckled, his dark beady eyes twinkling in delight at the thought that the next supreme would be male, putting an end to the witches supremacy and ensuring that warlocks would reign above them in their rightful spots.

"Don't worry I will" Michael smiled glancing down at his shoes momentarily before looking back to the balding man "oh Ariel sir, I was going to ask you, would It be okay if I went and visited someone tomorrow?" he inquired, feigning innocence, playing the part of someone who was easily controlled to perfection.

"well I don't see why we wouldn't be able to over look the rules for our next supreme" Ariel chuckled "just be sure to be back before sun down"

"I will be, thank you sir" Michael smiled at him.

"Not a problem Michael, I'll be seeing you later tomorrow" Ariel smiled back at him, rasing his arm in goodbye before walking back to his loggings.

As he moved out of sight Michael rolled his eyes before he continued up the stairs all while muttering under his breathe;

"Arrogant fool"

* * *

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he entered the lavish hotel for the second time that week, the entryway appeared to be the exact same as it had been the first time he entered, the two extravagant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, twinkling in the large brightly lit lobby, faint instrumental music played in the background and the pungent scent of sage filled his nose; the irony of which made him chuckle faintly, it was well known to anyone who had enough of a connection to the world of spirts, that sage rarely worked especially in supernatural hotspots like the very hotel he was walking through.

He closed his eyes, watching as the string formed. As he watched the glowing sliver shoot up through the ceiling a voice called out to him causing his eyes to open as he turned to face the person who had spoken.

"Can I help you young man?" the voice belonged to a bald women who had emerged from the doors behind the receptionist desk, she appeared to be in her mid-60's, her Cleopatra styled makeup and large teardrop diamond earrings, matched her light blue poncho with gold stitching and black leather jeans, effectivly catching the light and drawing the eyes of anyone in viewing distance.

"I'm looking for Sophira Johnson" he told her as he walked up to the counter.

"There's no one by that name here" the women told him, her eyes were unwavering as she held his gaze, her posture relaxed, she gave off no telltale sighs that she was lying but despite that her tone held the slight inconsistency that always came when a lie passes through a persons lips.

"your lying, don't even try and deny it, your voice gives it away" he told her, his face emotionless.

"your like her aren't you" the women said, rasing an eyebrow as she studied him "well I'd try the penthouse first, she normally spends her time up there and if not, well she might be with her father on the seventh floor or her brother on the third" she told him, drawing out the vowels in the final word.

"And how exactly will I know which room she's in?" he asked coolly

"Oh you won't need to worry about that, she'll feel you coming once you get close enough, hell I wouldn't be surprised if she already knew you were here"

* * *

"ow, Will seriously, again" she cried out as a pin pierced her side.

"well if you quite moving it would be easier" the fashion designer scolded her as he worked his way through the sea of black tulle that made up the biggest, most beautiful and thankfully the last of the dresses that she was scheduled to wear for Will's next fashion show.

"Are we almost done here?, I have things to do" she huffed. Liz was correct when she had suspected that Sophira was already aware of Michael being in the hotel, he exuded an energy that was more powerful and dominating then anyone she had ever met and her extra senses had picked up on its presence the minute it filled the air inside her home.

Excitement filled her at the though of him returning, it had been many, many years since she had last spoken to one of her kind- of their kind- in truth she had assumed that she was the last one of them alive. There was a strange sense of loss in that knowledge, seeing as she had only ever met one other of their small species but the memory of his death always stabbed a lance of fear and sadness into her heart; and for almost a decade after his death any reminder had her in inconsolable fits were she had been certain that the Angels were to come for her next, to finish eradicating what the pure ones thought to be abominations but they never did and eventually the fear faded but it never entirely left.

However while there was excitement there was also apprehension, she wasn't going to lie and say that she was more powerful then him because that was simply not true, her own abilities were simply bi-products of her mixed DNA; But Satan no doubt had bestowed many extra powerful gifts upon his son, all of which she was sure would provide a sweet, sweet, painful death; to anyone who would dare be crazy enough to try and stop the Armageddon from happening;

And if she wasn't careful- herself.

"Ow, dammit Will that one was on purpose" she hissed as the sharp silver nicked her skin bringing her back from her thoughts.

"Don't be ridiculous" he told her before unzipping the side of the dress and helped her carefully step out of his latest masterpiece.

"No, it totally was on purpose, I have a crater sized hole on my rib cage now" she joked as she slipped behind the partition in Wills fitting room and grabbed the short dark red spaghetti strap chiffon dress with a slightly plunging V-neck, that was hanging on the wall.

"So what's got you in such a hurry" Will questioned as she walked out and sat down on one of his plush grey chairs in order to tie the ankle straps on her six inch, platform heeled pumps.

"well I have someone coming to see me" she said simply

"A boy?" he pressed

"yes it's a boy and no its not like that" she told him as he opened his mouth to speak again "now I'm going to see him, so I will see you later".

Her words echoed behind her as she sped walked out of the suit. She closed the door behind her just as the elevator door in the penthouse opened.

"So you actually came" she said before he even stepped into her line of sight.

"You promised me answers" he stated as he stepped into the hallway.

"Well then" she told him, turning to the door across from the elevator.

"come in and get your answers".


	4. Chapter 4

**So ah, Hi, after like 9 months I finally finished a new chapter, I know I suck and I can't apologise enough but I finish Year 12 in like a week so I have plenty of time to finish writing this story, I'm not abandonning it but if you guys have any suggestions for any scenes let me know cause I'd love to here any and all ideas, and let me know if you guys would like to see some more mature content cause that can be arranged whethter it be in this story or a collection of side stories, let me know, your wish is my command.**

 **Anyway guys enjoy the story.**

* * *

Sophiras room was pure white.

Everything from the marble tiles to the bookcases lining the walls to the large shag rug that lay in between the three sofas was pure lily white.

Michael followed the girl as she walked into the center of the room and sat on one of the plush sofas, hesitantly obliging when she gestured for him to sit across from her.

"I take it from your partially good mood that you succeeded in wowing the supreme" she questioned.

"I did".

"so when will you be tested?".

"In just under two weeks, on the rise of the blood moon".

"blood moon" she repeated "spooky".

"Enough small talk, you know why I'm here".

"Fine, what do you want to know?" she told him, pulling her long hair over her shoulder and crossing her legs, displaying the illusion of calm despite the nerves that were fluttering in her stomach.

"Good" he replied after a second with a hard look before leaning forward slightly, arms resting on his legs as he clasped his hands together; "Now, who are you?".

"I told you before, my name is Sophira Elizabeth Johnson, I was born in 1925, and I was raised here in the hotel that my father built" she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards, "now, for my question, how old are you?".

"We're here for you to answer questions not me" he said eyes narrowing.

"And you will get your answers, as soon as you answer my own question" she said.

"Nineteen" he stated, offering nothing more then the bare minimum as Sophira restrained an eyeroll.

"Come on, It's not like I'm asking for your credit card information, when's your birthday" she asked.

"May 6th, 2012" he gritted out, leaning back a fraction.

Her eyebrows raised a fraction at his answer "Geeze you grew fast didn't you" she muttered, sending a small wave of power down the bond, soothing the anger she felt growing on his end.

"What about you then; if you were born almost a century ago, how do you look so young?" he asked her, leaning back slightly in the chair.

"Most of us age more rapidly then human children do, from what I know we all grow at different paces but for me personally, everything was doubled; four years after my birth, I physically resembled an eight year old and had the mental age of a sixteen year old; it continued till my sixth birthday I just stopped aging" she shrugged.

"Most of us?" he repeated

"yes most of us, as in the rest of our species" she told him, waving her hand in small circles.

"And what is exactly is 'our' species" he said, narrowing his eyes.

She grinned at him, revealing a set of pearly white teeth "let me ask you this Michael, who do you think your father is".

He looked at her incredulously "My father is Satan".

"Satan, lucifer, the devil, father of lies, the dragon" she lists off, "your dads collected quite a few names over the years, but one that is often overlooked is his original name- Lucile Morningstar, one of the archangels"

"Your point is?" he drawled out

"My point is that despite the fact that your dad fell from heaven, despite his contempt towards God and despite his current position as the ruler of the underworld; he is still an angel biologically speaking, just like my own father and the third of heaven that was cast out for following him". Her voice had lost its joking tone as she laid the puzzle pieces out for him. "you're a Nephilim and as far as I'm aware, other than myself you're the last"

"No" he said, shaking his head "Your wrong, I'm not part angel, I'm not even a person, I'm a monster, the antichrist who's destined to destroy the world" he hissed at her, his power fanned around him, dark and cold and full of death

"Who said you were a monster!" she asked as she stood up.

"My family" he exclaimed running a hand through his hair, truthfully he didn't know why he was telling her this, he had never even told Miss Mead about how much the thought of being a monster had originally bothered him, choosing instead to embrace the darkness and let the anger and the pain guide him along his new path.

"And what did you do to make them say that?" she questioned.

"I killed my own Mother, I tried to destroy her soul like I destroyed the souls of the others; I killed my own twin; I ate the heart of an innocent girl and now I'm going to kill you" he spat his magic throwing her against the wall, forcing her neck to twist sharply to the side. His power buffering slightly as her own powers tried to force him back.

But he was the son of Satan.

His power defied the laws of magic, he had no equal,

And he didn't stop until he heard her neck splinter and snap.

* * *

The building had gone silent, the whispering of trapped souls ceased, the hotel grew cold and dark, as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for the prince of hells next move.

He watched as her corpse slid down the wall, falling in a heap at the bottom

She was wrong, even if his fathers previous nature had been something pure and good It was gone now, replaced with deceit and darkness, all of which he had inherited.

The rage boiled within him at the thought, growing and surging until he felt the his eyes grow black and the veins on his face rose to the surface. With a scream he grabbed a glass vase that rested on the coffee table and hurled it at the wall. The shattering of glass cut through the room, tearing through his anger and making it disappear as quickly as it came.

He felt strangely numb as he gazed at Sophira's body, her head hung unnaturally on her body, her white hair framing her pale face, highlighting the harsh dark purple bruise that had formed over the bone large lump on the side of her neck. A thin trail of blood trickled from the side of her mouth and her eyes were glazed over, forever fixed on a certain point.

A thin stream of guilt trickled through him, she hadn't necessarily deserved to die, she had simply been the nearest outlet for his anger. He sighed, pushing back the foreign emotion and concentrated his power, letting it was over him and pull him out of the white room before depositing him at the edge of the clearing that held the entrance too the warlocks school. Her soul would have woken up as a ghost by now, that is if she had any loose ends that would prevent her from entering the afterlife.

But her fate wasn't a concern of his, all that mattered was passing the seven wonders and using the witches magic to take control.

* * *

The air burnt her lungs as she desperately tried to suck in air, she coughed and spluttered into her hand, grimacing as her hand came away sticky with blood. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she took in the dark room. A few hours must have passed as the last thin rays of sunset weakly pierced the window into her room and the sliver of blood that spilled out of the corner of her mouth had become dry and crusty with age.

"Oh your awake" Liz spoke as she glided down the stairs that lead to her bedroom. "here, thought you could use these"

"Thanks" she whispered as she took the wet cloth and glass of water from Liz and wiped away the blood stuck to her hands and face. "How did you know something had happened?"

"After working in this place for so long you learn to notice things, when I didn't see you trailing the boy as he left I got suspicious".

"You always were ten steps ahead of everyone else Liz" Sophira said, forcing her stiff limbs to deposit her on the couch.

"Yes well It is useful when living in a hotel full of serial killers, although you mother was always another ten steps in front of me"

"She's always ten steps ahead of everyone"

"An unfortunate truth" Liz smiled, standing up to pour herself a drink from the full bottles on Sophira's drink cart. "now enough with the small talk and tell me who they boy that managed to snap your neck is"

"His names Michael" She sighed

"He's very pretty, exactly the kind of guy the Countess would take a liking too and you were always a mummies girl"

"It's not like that"

"Well if you weren't planning to use and abuse him then what, he must have some value if you did nothing to stop him from breaking your neck"

"That's the thing, I did try and stop him, He's stronger then me and I want to help him learn control that doesn't stem from anger"

"So your making a charity case out of the boy who tried to kill you"

"Well technically I'm making a charity case out of the antichrist but either description is valid"

"The antichrist?" Liz raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow "well now your interest makes more sense, you want to convert him"

"No I just have a little aversion to actually dying, which is what will happen if he continues following the orders of those idiots playing dress up in there little robs"

"Well I wish you luck my dear" Liz spoke, raising her glass in a half hearted toast "Hope you know what your doing"

"Honestly I have no idea how this is going to go"

"Then here's some advice, don't force him, let him come to you".

* * *

Michaels room in the underground school was small and plain.

He had a double bed covered in plain dark sheets, a mirror that stood in the corner as well as a wooden dresser that took up half a wall but was severely lacking in articles of clothing that didn't make him look like a private school boy in the 1960's. His desk however was probably the most interesting. It was covered in books and pages filled with notes and drawings. She hummed in appreciation as she flicked through his drawings, stopping at a drawing of the Hotel Cortez. Everything was drawn perfectly on the page, the size and scale of the building, even the shape and size of the leaves on the trees were to scale, all neatly printed in dark charcoal.

Except for the hard line that cut through one of the windows.

Her window to be exact.

She touched the dark line and examined her fingers as they came away slightly smudged with black. He had crossed her window out in anger after he had arrived back at the school. That was interesting she thought as she put the papers back where she found them and moved to pick up one of the magic textbooks he had left lying open.

Flipping back to the first page she began to read. The book appeared to be about scrying and divination as well as the ways of preventing a magical signature from being traced or located. An interesting topic she thought as she slowly sat on his bed, maybe he had been trying to learn how to block his aura from the witches senses, that was the most likely explanation. Michaels aura was growing in potency by the day, in fact it had almost been easy to locate his room when she had transumted into the wizards not-so-secret lair. The air was filled with his potent dark magic, magic that that she suspected that the wizards were too weak to sense the nature of.

That or they were just power hungry old fools who were to blinded by their ambition to notice what was going on right in front of them. Both suspicions may yet to be proven true.

The minutes ticked by as she read through the large tome, her interest increasing with every page, until her focus was shattered as her magic prickled and the shadow stirred as she sensed Michael walking towards his room.

Her heartbeat quickened as the door handle turned but she forced it to slow it's pace as she pretended to continue reading although her eyes never left the same word as Michael stepped into the room, looking unsurprised to see her there.

"Next time you try to kill a Nephilim who's grown into their powers, you may want to try destroying the entire body and burning the remains" she spoke, not looking up from her page. "we can't regenerate from ashes, or so I've been told"

"A rather bold statement to tell your weak spot to a person who snapped your neck less then twenty-four hours ago" he chided "unless your certain that I'm not going to try again"

"That's because I am certain" she said looking up from the book

"And why is that?"

"Because empathy links can do more than let you see where I am and what I'm doing" she closed the book and walked closer to him "The longer it's active the stronger it becomes, originally I was going to remove it when you came and saw me but when you snapped my neck I decided to strengthen it instead"

"Meaning what?" he narrowed his eyes and rose to his full height.

"Meaning this" she said as she pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and used it to poke her finger, a faint throb of pain bubbled under her skin as a small bead of red seeped through the small break in her skin that sealed itself shut after a heartbeat.

A drop of blood fell to the polished wooden floors. They both stared at the red liquid momentarily before Michael lifted his hand and wiped off the blood that had come from the small crack in his skin that had appeared and healed as quickly as hers had.

"Ta dah" she grinned "you can't kill me without killing yourself, because everything I feel, you'll feel and visa versa"

"Remove it" he growled

"No can do love, you see I rather like living and removing a variable that will prevent that gives me great pleasure"

"I'll find a way to break it, and then I'm going to kill you, painfully and slowly" He growled, the beast in his chest scratching against him in fury.

"No you won't" she whispered, sending a wave of calm down the silver thread "the tomes and grimoires that contained the spell were passed through the generations of Nephilim, and the last one of us to posses it was beheaded and burnt along with all her possessions over seventy-five years ago"

"Then how do you have it"

"The Nephilim's name was Amora, she was being hunted and ended up at the hotel, she let me read through some of her books and she taught me control" she shrugged "either way I'm the only one who knows the spell"

"So your going to keep me forcibly bound to you forever"

"No Michael, forcibly binding you would be like chaining up a lion with a dog leash"

"Then what do you want"

"Nothing you don't want Michael, I can leave this underground hidy-hole and all you'll feel of me is anything that slips through the bond, or I can teach you about what you really are, not a monster or a demon but a Nephilim with unimaginable power"

He stared at her hard and unblinking.

"It's your call Michael, we'll do whatever you want"

The silence stretched between them as they looked at each other. While the hostile atmosphere had dissipated the air remained charged in anticipation until it was shattered by the muttering of a single word.

"okay"


	5. Chapter 5

**IMPORTANT: This chapter is a reupload of the last chapter however I would advise you to reread the chapter as I've altered some major points of the dialouge and added about 3K words to the chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Okay" he sighed the single word was seemingly swallowed by the room

"Okay?" she repeated somewhat stunned, part of her was convinced that he wouldn't agree to her suggestion despite his curiosity and hunger for knowledge.

"Okay, I'll let you tell me what you know about what I supposedly am".

"There's nothing supposedly about it, you are a Nephilim"

"Right" he drawled "well go on, you were so determined to get me to listen to what you wanted to say, so say it"

"Alright" she breathed, before sitting cross legged on his bed and beckoning him to come sit opposite her. "After your father and a third of the angels left heaven, children started popping up all over the world. These children were beautiful and intelligent, but they were unnatural. All of their mothers died at birth and while some of them grew normally, others would age rapidly. All of them had life spans of hundreds of years but only those with more powerful angel parents were immortal."

"And are you immortal?"

"Amora, the Nephilim who taught me what she knew; thought I might be since I never aged"

"So, your angelic parent was relatively powerful. Do you know who they are?"

"I know my true father was an angel, my biological mother died when I was born, my biological father doesn't talk about her but his wife- my adoptive mother- was friends with her and she told me a few things about what she was like"

"And you have no idea what angel sired you"

"Unfortunately, no I don't" The silence enveloped them once more, both of them growing increasingly more uncomfortable in the awkward silence, until Sophira opened her mouth to speak once again. "All Nephilim grow stronger than their parents Michael, and when we use our powers without knowing who we are and the extent of what we can do we become a greater threat then the fallen, that's why they hunt us down"

"So, I'm going to grow stronger than my father" he stated, his voice growing into a whisper as for the first time he was unable to hide his shock.

"If you learn proper control and If he lets you live that long then yeah you will be"

"You think he's going to try and kill me"

"I think it's likely, unless you want to become a puppet for your entire life"

* * *

If you had asked her a handful of decades ago if she would have continued to pester someone who had the power and the will to kill her, she would have said no. Growing up there was one rule to surviving in the Hotel Cortez:

Obey the rules

The rules were simple, whatever someone above her in the social hierarchy wanted something of her she was to follow, If her mother needed her to help collect blood for her and her current lover then she would without question. If her father wished for her to help him torment an innocent person, then another lost soul would be added to the Hotels extensive body count.

Follow the rules and you stay safe.

The rules were something she reveled in, the torture and torment feed the shadow in her soul and made it feel alive.

And behind the shadow cowered a little girl who didn't understand why she could do the things that she could do, why she wanted to do bad things and why she loved to hurt people.

But then Amora came.

* * *

 _The 1980's were the best times to be alive according to her mother. The people were loud and free to be and dress in any way they pleased. Crowds would flock to the hotel, enameled by its historic beauty and grandeur, so when a girl rushed in, her curly brown hair disheveled and a light sheen of sweat covering her toffee colored skin, no one payed half a mind._

 _The women quickly booked a room, checkout date indefinite, all while sensing a pair of cold green eyes trailing her as she hurried to room 37._

 _The room was old and dirty with a creaky bed and a questionably clean bathroom, but it was cheap and she was desperate._

 _She had chosen the Hotel Cortez for a specific reason. It was one of the most powerful Hell mouths in the country courtesy of James Patrick March, who was said to have killed 2-3 people a week when he was in a good mood and with statistics like that it was thought that his kill count went into the thousands. The blood of his victims had consecrated the hotel, opening a portal into the pit and causing the spirts of the dead to remain trapped within the dark halls._

 _The pure and divine nature of those that were hunting her would rupture and decay as soon as they stepped foot in the devil's playground and the magnitude of malicious energy that rolled off the hotel made it the perfect place for a running Nephilim to hide._

 _When the devil first took a third of the angles and fell from heaven, some were enticed by the beauty of the mortal women and from those unions came the Nephilim. The children were beautiful and beloved by all, some grew to befriended the humans, using their intelligence to create gifts that would help the mortals and teaching them how to create themselves while other grew malevolent, slaves to the darkness that raged inside them and they slaughtered and killed for their own amusement._

 _They were the ones that prompted heavens host come to eliminate both the good and the bad._

 _The few dozen that survived had fled into the wilderness and survived together throughout the centuries, not all of them were immortal and the few births that occurred were celebrated but all good things must come to an end._

 _They hadn't expected the angels to find them again millenniums later, deep in the woods away from civilization and protected by enough wards and sigils to deter the most powerful demons._

 _But angels aren't demons and they attacked with a righteous fury that was neither necessary or warranted. Their crime was having the gal to exist in the first place as in the eyes of heaven they were abominations, the offspring of humans and the fallen who brought famine and pestilence upon the earth._

 _Amora was the only one to survive. She had struggled as her Paramore Marina pushed her into a raging river that carried her away sacrificing her life to ensure that she survived another day. It rained all of the three days it took to return to what was left of her home. The grass was littered with the burnt bodies of her friends and family, the houses had been burnt down and the river had turned red with the blood that had run off with the rain._

 _Her world had imploded and as she found Marina's body she sobbed and wailed for the loss of life._

 _But eventually she found the strength to leave the forest and there she discovered the world of the humans._

 _And twenty years later, with heavens host behind her she fled to the safest place she knew of._

 _And there hiding in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, she found a little Nephilim girl who didn't understand who or what she was._

* * *

"So, my dear, how has your week been, terrorized any young men or women" The Monarch of her family questioned as she entered room 74 and sat down at the decorated table for her weekly dinner with her father. It had been two days since her visit to the Hawthorne school and her all her thoughts had revolved around the blonde boy and the unanswered questions that she desperately needed answers to.

"Dad you are the one who instated the rule of not doing any bodily harm to the guests"

"Yes, but we only have to restrain ourselves until 2026 and besides you are not confined by these blasted walls, your free to go and cause chaos as you please"

"And then I would be dead before I got home. Anyway, how is planning for devil night going"

"Quite well, Miss Evers has proven competent enough in preparing everything without direct instruction from me, however our guests may be displeased at the lack of entertainment for the evening"

"As long as they don't draw unwanted attention"

"Don't worry about my pupils, they won't disobey me"

"I'm sure they won't…" she said her voice trailing off

"What's wrong my sweet?" March voiced " Something is clearly bothering you"

"I've made an arrangement with someone"

"Are you referring to that splendid young man who was here recently?" March sipped from his wine glass "I heard from Cleopatra that he paid you another visit. I'd like to meet him properly if he comes around again"

"His names Michael and he's like me but different and I don't know how well I'll be able to understand him"

"Well in order to understand him you have to be aware of his past, know thy enemy as they say"

"Know thy enemy" she muttered slipping into her mind as her thoughts whirled. In front of her March sighed, knowing all to well that he had lost his daughter for the moment as she formulated a plan to deal with Michael.

As the minutes ticked by and Marchs wine glass quickly emptied Sophira quickly sat up as a figurative lightbulb went off in her mind. "I'll bring him to you the next time he comes, but I have one request".

"And that is?"

"I wish to borrow the addiction demon for a day, and I want to take him outside the hotel" she said leaning back into her chair "There may be some people that have answers but I'll need some incentive that won't alert Michael as to what I'm doing"

March smirked at his daughter, the few remaining sips of wine twirling in his glass as he considered her offer. "Bring the boy to me and the demon is yours my dear".

* * *

At dusk two days later, the air became charged with energy as the son of Lucifer returned to the hotel.

On the second floor at the blue parrot lounge, Liz Taylor carefully poured the specially stored thick red liquid into a canteen as well as a child's sippy cup before passing the to the waiting mother and son.

"Thanks Liz" spoke the hotels resident governess, "Say thank you Holden"

"Thank you" mimicked the small boy from his place on his adoptive sisters lap.

"You don't mind feeding Bartholomew, do you?" Alex asked Sophira as she sorted through her purse for her keys

"Of course. Just go pick up Scarlet and Lachlan and when you get back my brother will be calm and quiet, so you don't have to worry about anything"

"Thank you, I'll see you both later then" the pediatrician said as she picked up her son and carried him down the grand staircase.

"You'll need this" Liz told her passing a tall bottled filled with warm blood towards her.

"Am I interrupting something?" asked Michael as he graced the top of the stairs.

"Michael, I didn't know you were coming" she smiled at him

"I had some free time, so I thought I'd drop by" he moved towards the bar. "I can wait if your busy".

"You can come with me if you like, it won't take more than a few minutes"

"Are you sure that's wise my dear" Liz drawled from behind the bar. "Don't want to scare the poor boy off"

"Thank you for the concern but I don't scare that easily" Michael said, his voice seemingly calm but with a condescending edge.

"Michael this is Liz Taylor, the maker of the best martini in LA" Sophira interjected.

"Charmed I'm sure" Liz smirked at him before turning to face Sophira "Remember not to leave the door open, if there's a repeat of last time your mother will have all our heads"

"Noted" she responded, jumping off her seat and turning to Michael "shall we".

* * *

"So, what exactly are we doing" Michael asked as they stepped into the elevator, watching as she pressed the button for the third floor.

"I'm on feeding duty." she told him raising the bottle of blood "Normally my brothers governess would feed him but it's almost Devils night, so she has to pick up her daughter and another guests son"

"And I assume your brother's governess is the women I passed on the way up to the bar?"

"Yea that's Alex, she's a pediatrician but my mother turned her into an afflicted and now she watches my brother when she's not on shift." "She used to govern all of my siblings but they're not here anymore…" Her voice trailed off and she looked at the floor.

The silence stretched between them momentarily before the elevator door opened and Sophira started leading them down into the depths of the floor towards room 33.

"Okay now when we go in, I need you to be quiet and don't make any sudden movements.

"Why?" Michael questioned.

"Ah, you'll see" she replied ominously before slowly turning the knob of the door, gesturing for him to enter the room.

Thick black curtains blocked out the majority of light from entering but enough was present to allow him to see the room that appeared to be a child's nursery. Toys were scattered across the floor and a lone bassinet was placed in the center of the room. The door clicked behind him as Sophira entered and shut the door.

"Bartholomew" she called out softly, her hand lightly touched his arm and Michael jumped slightly at the sudden contact, but he didn't protest as she drew him behind her.

A soft grunting came from the crib as they approached. "I have your food" Sophira said as she uncapped the bottle and the metallic scent of blood wafted through the room causing the sounds in the crib to become louder and more frequent. Carefully she handed Michael the bottle as she reached in to grab the child.

Michaels eyes widened as she held the child up for him to see while motioning to him to hand her the blood.

The babies face and head were bulbous and unformed, with a cleft palate that extended beyond his sinus cavity. Several sharp teeth protruded from above his lipless mouth while his face was absent of any nose, and his eyes were small, black and devoid of pupils. Slowly his sister tipped the dark liquid into his maw and he gulped it up greedily.

"What is he?" Michael whispered; his eyes trained on the child in Sophira's arms.

"Our father was still a human when he was born but his mother was an afflicted, or a vampire would be the more common term".

"So, he's an abomination like us"

"He's a hybrid" Sophira snapped just as Bartholomew finished the blood and he began to squirm, scratching at his sisters' arms in a demand to be set down. "He's not an abomination, just as you and I aren't abominations. We're simply different" she said setting the boy down, watching him speed off under his dresser, growling softly at Michael. "Come on before he decides to attack you" she chuckled as she ushered him out of the room, quickly shutting the door behind them.

"So what date is your test?" Sophira asked as they made their way back to the elevator

"On the 28th the wizards are giving me a blessing and the test will take place throughout the next day"

"Wait their giving you a blessing, as in a blessing against evil. That's the most ironic thing I've heard, are they going to anoint you with oils as well" she grinned up at him, freezing in shock for a second as his mouth lifted into a small smile, the first real smile she'd ever seen from him. "Hey if your free on the 30th you should come to devil's night" she smiled at him.

"Devil's night? You mean Halloween?" he replied.

"Well yes it's Halloween but it's the day that all the ghosts can leave their eternal resting places and wander about" she explained "It's also my father's birthday party, he wouldn't mind if you came with me, hell he'd probably invite you himself and show you off to all of his apprentices who come for the occasion"

"His apprentices?" he asked as they stepped into the elevator.

"Yea, there's Richard Ramirez, Aileen Wuornos, Jeffrey Dahmer, the zodiac killer, John Lowe and Charles Manson has an invite but he's not dead so he can't attend."

"Your father's apprentices are serial killers" Michael stated as the doors opened revealing an immaculately dressed man in a blue pinstripe suit.

"Yes, they are, my dear boy, I don't believe we've formally met" he said grasping Michaels hand in a firm handshake "James Patrick March- founder of the Hotel Cortez"

* * *

"I committed my first murder when I was 27" March narrated as he lead the pair into his old study. "Poetically enough it was my father, a god-fearing man he was but also one of the cruelest bastards you would ever meet, he himself was a killer, wasn't brave enough to kill a man but he had a habit of killing animals that were unfortunate enough to come within five miles of the house".

"Why did you kill him?" Michael voiced, intrigued by the man.

"After I made my fortune in my youth selling coal and oil, I planned to travel west were bloodlines didn't matter as long as you had money. My father however had other ideas and believed that I owed him for the piss poor job he did at raising me. Unfortunately for him I decided that I would rather blunger him with my cane".

"And then he went West and built the most impressive hotel in LA, that doubled as a giant torture chamber" Sophira interjected.

"Yes" March smirked "hallways with no exit, acid pits, fire chambers, hidden spikes, spaces to seal peoples inside the walls, hidden shoots that lead to secret rooms in the basement for storing bodies"

"A murder palace" Michael murmured, causing March's smirk to grow wider

"Exactly, my boy. Sophira if you please" March said to his daughter who raised her hand, pulling the wardrobe aside to reveal a vault that March unlocked, pulling back the door to reveal March's trophy room.

The trio walked through the room as March told tales of some of his favorite kills. "And here we are the pinacol of my career" James indicated to the large glass cabinet filled with body parts. "the ten commandment kills".

Sophira hung back behind the two men, unwilling to look at the head of her mother, while Michael gazed at the body parts in wonder. "You did this?"

"The first two were my work, unfortunately I was forced to tether my soul to the hotel before I could finish, however; throughout the years I taught many successful killers on the art"

"Your apprentices"

"Yes, a handful of years ago I met a detective who possessed a once in a century anger, he was my prodigy and was a worthy successor to my legacy, unfortunately he is no longer among the living but he will be coming for devils night, Michael my boy, I insist you come and meet everyone"

Michael blinked, slightly unsure of how to react, he had never been invited to a party, even if it was a party were the guest list consisted of serial killers. "I'll see if I can make it" he finally said, glancing towards Sophira and saw the corners of her lips twitch upwards, a reaction that he couldn't help but reciprocate.

"Excellent, I'll inform the maids, lots of details to plan and oversee, I'll leave you two here, make sure you put the wardrobe back when you leave" March told them before disappearing from view.

* * *

"How about we try something before we leave" Sophira spoke, although it was less of a question and more of an instruction.

"what do you have in mind?" He asked, watching her as she opened the cabinet and removed the jar of vocal cords.

"Tell me how this person died" she said handing it to him "everything is made up of energy, you can tap into that energy and manipulate it, sense the energy that lingers on it and feel the emotions that linger there"

"Their scared" Michael muttered closing his eyes

"Manipulate the emotion, make it bigger, make it show you what happened" Her voice faded into the backs of his mind as images flashed through his mind.

 _A man with dark hair entering a room filled with cubicles._

 _Posters on the walls of magazine covers._

 _The dark-haired man nailing their tongues to their desks and tearing out their vocal cords._

 _Screaming._

 _Blood._

 _'Thou shall not bear false witness'._

Michael blinked as his mind cleared of the images "Gossip mongers, he ripped out their vocal cords for spreading rumors"

"Very good" she told him as she took the jar and placed it back into the cabinet. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked as he leant against the wall.

"I'm fine, I just felt their fear and…" he trailed off

"Feels real doesn't it, the first time you do it is the worst" she said placing her hand on his shoulder, he stiffened slightly at the contact before relaxing. "Come on, let's raid the kitchen for something to eat".

* * *

"So, Michael, pick your poison" Sophira told him as they entered the large stainless steal kitchen. "We have a ton of stored food and enough ingredients to feed a small country".

"You don't have to make anything" Michael told her.

"I'm not actually going to poison you" said rolling her eyes playfully. "Come on, what's your favorite food?"

"You're not going to let this go until I tell you"

"Not likely" she smirked. "You'll be hard pressed to find someone as stubborn as me".

"Fine" Michael sighed "French Toast".

"Sweet or savory?" She asked as she moved around the kitchen collecting ingredients

"Sweet" He told her, remembering the meals Ms. Mead would make him.

"Ah a man of taste I see" She laughed lightly as she gave him the bowel of ingredients "You can stir" she instructed, scoffing slightly as the wooden spoon picked itself up and began stirring the mixture. Slowly she turned and opened a cabinet to retrieve a frying pan.

Before promptly closing it and quickly backing away eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" Michael questioned, taking in her wide eyes.

"Ah, nothing." she deflected as he raised an eyebrow. "There's um... There's a moth in the cabinet..." she explained, red rushing to her cheeks.

"A moth" he repeated "you're afraid of moths"

"Yea well everyone's scared of something" she huffed as she slowly inched towards the cabinet but before she could make it Michael smirked, reaching out with his magic and making the cabinet doors open, causing a small brown moth to fly out.

"Oh fuck" she hissed. "Seriously Michael"

"I couldn't resist" he said watching the girl dash towards the opposite wall, her eyes trained on the small creature with an intensity that made his shoulders shake with silent laughter. "Here" he said rising his hand slightly, causing the small creature to burst into a small ball of flames and drop to the floor.

"My hero" she said rolling her eyes.

"How does someone become afraid of moths in the first place?" he asked her.

"When I was a child a moth flew into my mouth as I was eating" she grumbled while crossing her arms.

"Did you eat it?"

"Instinctively I bit down before freaking out and throwing up"

"And almost a century later your still afraid" Michael smirked.

"Yea well I'm sure your scared of something, everyone is" she said returning his smirk.

"Even if I was you would never figure it out"

"Come on you know my phobia, what's yours, it's only fair" she baited him despite knowing that he'd never willingly tell her.

"How about I help you finish the French toast, is that fair"

"Help me with the toast and I'll forgive you for setting the moth loose but I won't give up until I find something you're scared of" she smirked up at him.

"We'll see about that" he returned her smirk before grabbing the frying pan.

"So why French toast?" she asked as they sat at the coffee table in her penthouse suite. "You have a sweet tooth, that much is obvious, but why is French toast your favorite food when there are sweeter things"

"It's the first thing Ms. Mead made for me when she found me" He told her.

"Found you?" she questioned taking another bite of the sugary goodness.

"She and two others from the church of Satan found me in a hell mouth in the suburbs" He said.

"Do you mean the murder house?" She asked and Michael nodded.

"I was born there" he told her, lowering his cutlery.

"Your mother was that lady that died giving birth to twins"

"My half-brother-Jeffery and I" He confirmed.

"Half-brother?" she questioned "But your twins".

"My true father took control of Tate Langdon, a ghost in the house, and used him to have me, however; Jeffery had been conceived shortly before hand and his father was my stepfather and the one person, I thought could help me but I was wrong." He looked down his hands shook slightly as he remembered his living situation before Ms. Mead found him.

Suddenly Sophira reached out and grabbed the hand closest to her, stilling them. Her hand was soft, warm and small enough that they barely wrapped around his. "I'm sorry I made you think about that, but now you're here with me and I'm going to be whoever you want to be."

"Why?" he whispered, staring down at their hands "Why help me?".

"Because Michael, you're my friend and friends help each other".

"You think were friends?" He asked his voice soft.

"I know that you're my friend Michael, even if you don't consider me yours". She told him, her voice firm and certain as she lightly squeezed his hands.

"I'd like to be friends" He whispered, and tendrils of warmth formed in both their chests as he gently squeezed her hand.


	6. Chapter 6

He was practicing for the test of the seven wonders when the rush of sadness and anger hit him. The lit candles in front of him erupting into flames, causing the wax to boil and melt over the table.

"Michael, are you alright?" questioned Behold Chablis who watched as his star pupil, rose his hand to his chest.

"I'm fine" snapped Michael, an anger that didn't belong to him taking hold. "Sorry I- I'm not sure what happened"

"Have you been getting much sleep Michael?" Behold asked as he examined the bags under Michaels eyes.

"Not particularly" He answered honestly. Truthfully, he had been sneaking out in order to visit Sophira. There was something about her that made him feel understood and he had decided that he quite enjoyed having a friend, someone who didn't judge him over his family or his mistakes and impulses. So, over the last few days he had found himself taking most of the opportunities to go see her in the hotel after classes, often not returning till late at night where he would continue to talk to her through the bond until one of them fell asleep.

"If you are worried about passing the seven wonders, don't be. We all have no doubt that you'll be able to pass the tests" Behold told him "But you need to be well rested in order to be at properly utilize your powers".

"I'll keep that in mind"

"You better, now, since the candles are no longer functional, you use the divination stones to locate some new ones".

It was four days before Halloween when Sophira left the hotel and travelled west to 1120 Westchester Place.

* * *

It wasn't particularly difficult to make the real estate office to not only give her the key but to also take the house off the market. Human minds were easily tricked into seeing and believing things that never were, instead of seeing a teenager walk out with the key, they saw a rich elderly couple who had paid for the house in cash as an investment for their grandchildren. A vague but effective lie that would stop any unnecessary questions about the house.

She felt the building before she saw it. The hell mouth's energy radiated out for miles and sent shivers down her spine. Her status as the founder's daughter and the ghost's inability to hide gave her an edge over the inhabitants that were trapped in her home, however; these ghosts had no reason to care for the former and the latter would likely only serve to anger them.

Hence her decision to bring a motivational factor.

* * *

The house loomed ominously in the middle of the street, the dead, unkept lawn and cracked walkways juxtaposing the immaculate homes surrounding the murder house.

The houses external appearance was a scar on the land, the elaborate black fence did more than separate the sidewalk from the driveway; it separated the realm of the living from the world of the dead.

The inside of the house however was deceivingly perfect and beautiful, like someone had tried to cover up the years of pain and torment with a thin layer of paint and varnish. She couldn't blame the redecorator, Liz and Iris were in the process of applying a similar layer of deception to the hotel.

The ghost's energies buzzed around her, like cockroaches they hid in the dark corners of the house, the voices of those who were coherent enough to function on a partially normal basis flowed through her ears. A woman in a maid costume watched her as she dusted the floors, her form shifting between ages every few moments. In the living room sat a boy talking with a calm looking older man.

Tate Langdon and Ben Harmon.

Michaels biological and legal fathers.

A kindle of rage sparked in her chest, but she suppressed it and continued on, acting as if she couldn't see the men look towards her as she walked in between their chairs. Her hands brushed across the surface of the couch as she closed her eyes and focused on the energies that lingered in the room. Michaels frequency was easier to pinpoint than she thought it would be. It was lower, more human than the lingering vibrations he left in the hotel. Slowly she drew the energy towards her, feeling the emotions wash over her and letting the visions fill her mind.

* * *

 _A woman lay on the covered sofa, her body limp and her eyes were unable to open no matter how hard the young golden-haired boy shook her. "Hey. Hey, wake up" Michael sobbed, "Hey, wake up" his pain radiated through her and she hardened her heart against the energies imprint. If she allowed herself to be overwhelmed by any powerful emotion the bond would alert Michael that something was wrong._

 _"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault" young Michael continued to sob as he held onto the women's body and continued to fruitlessly try to wake her "Grandma"._

 _"The spirits in this house can't be seen unless they want to be seen" another voice flowed through the air and Michael turned to face the spirit, his body quivering with soundless cries._

 _"She doesn't want to see me?" He questioned, the heartbreak in his voice evident and Ben Harmon lightly shook his head._

 _"I'm sorry"_

 _"Who are you?" Michael sniffled._

 _"Someone who wants to be seen, someone who wants to help" his stepfather vaguely answered. "If you really want to change, I think I can show you how"_

 _"I'm a monster" Michael told the spirit his voice full of pain and self-loathing "why would you want to help me?"_

 _"Because I can't help but think of you as my son, even though you're not really"._

* * *

Sophira blinked as the image faded from her mind and was replaced by duller images, caused by weaker emotions.

Anger:

 _"There are less violent ways to deal with what your feeling"…_

Fear:

 _"I don't know how to control it"…_

Sadness:

 _"It's been weeks and she still doesn't want to see me"…_

Understanding:

 _"Your pawn is the weakest piece but also your most abundant"…_

Gratification:

 _"Your incredibly intelligent Michael"…..._

Desperation:

 _"I want to be good"…._

* * *

The images became brighter and oversaturated the longer she focused on them. They seared themselves into the backs of her eyes until she was forced to withdraw from the emotional onslaught.

She sighed at the goosebumps that erupted across her arms as she felt the ghosts draw closer. "You know just because your both dead, doesn't mean it's not rude to stare" she mumbled "makes it creepier actually"

"You can sense us?" Asked Tate as he threw a questioning look at Ben.

"No, I make a habit of calling out any possible perverted ghosts in any and every room I enter" she told him as she opened her eyes and looked at the two men. "Yes, I can see you"

"You're a medium?" Ben calmly asked her.

"No, you have to be a human to be a medium" she stated as she walked past them, deeper into the house.

"So, what, your saying that you're not human" Tate called out to her before casting a questioning look to his psychiatrist who moved to follow the girl.

"Technically speaking I'm half human" She told them as she walked into the living room, breathing in and letting the emotions rush past her.

 _Fear_

 _Confusion_

 _Heartbreak_

"Miss, are you alright?" Ben asked as the girl suddenly stopped at the entrance of the living room.

"Something happened in this room" she whispered "something I've never felt before". Walking into the room, she closed her eyes and let the strange imprint wash over her. Most energies were continuous, even if they were overpowered by newer ones, they were forever existing in the place they were left, this however; felt like an implosion of power. A black hole that absorbed all emotions and vibrations. "What happened to the spirits here?"

The two spirits looked at her in silence, internally debating what to say to the newcomer.

"Think of it this way, the sooner you answer my questions the sooner I leave, trust me I didn't particularly want to spend my day like this" she told them.

Ben sighed "Something terrible is what happened here, two souls were destroyed".

"By your son I presume" She quipped. Had the changes in their moods been the result of any other person or thing she would have found it amusing how their backs straightened, you could practically see their guards shooting up and the scowl on Tate's face deepened and his eyes shot daggers at her. But unfortunately for them, their reaction was due to someone she cared about.

"Who are you and how do you know about that fucking abomination?!" seethed Tate as he moved towards the girl.

"Oh yes, I forgot to introduce myself, how rude of me, I'm a fellow abomination" She gave them a tight-lipped smile, a sick pleasure mixing with the anger in her chest as her milky white

nictitating membrane slipped over her pupils long enough for them to notice how unnaturally devoid of colour her face was. "but the those that aren't hypocritical douche bags call me Sophira".

"Why are you here?" Asked Ben as he reached out to pull Tate back, likely to defuse the situation.

"I'm here to figure out how badly your terrible parenting fucked Michael up" She told them, a sliver of anger creeping into her tone as her eyes returned to their natural green.

"That piece of shit came out of the womb fucked up" Tate glared at her. "You may be like him, but you'll have a hard time trying to get out of the house alive so close to Halloween".

"Your little gaggle of ghosts don't scare me; I grew up in the largest hell mouth in Los Angeles. I know what works and what doesn't work against your kind." She told them as she reached into her handbag and withdrew and wooden box, painted all around the box were white symbols that seemed to pulse like a heart the longer they were stared at. "You claim that Michael is a demon. A mistake. An abomination." she stepped towards the pair. "But please tell me did he make you feel as uneasy as the creature inside this box?"

"What is that?" asked Ben his eyes flickering between Sophira and the box in her hands that radiated dark energy.

"This is an actual demon; it can't leave the hell mouth and it obeys only my father and me on occasion. So, you can think of the trouble you'd be in if it were to escape it's confinements." She smirked, as she looked the pair straight in the eyes and without blinking, scratched across one of the symbols. Instantly the foreboding feeling got stronger.

"Your lying, demons can't be captured or controlled" said Tate

"Oh I'm not lying, but I know seeing is believing and I do so desperately want you to believe" quickly she walked toward the blonde boy, reaching up and placing a pointed manicured figure on the center of Tate's forehead, allowing him to see her memories.

 _Screaming…._

 _Scarred skin stretched over unnaturally large bones…._

 _An eyeless face…._

 _The mechanical whirling of a drill…_

Gasping he stepped back, a thin trickle of blood welled up from the indent of her nail before healing. "what the fuck"

"Yeah, demons aren't that fun and they need to be fed regularly, so unless you want to be the one that feeds it and I can guarantee that you don't, I suggest you answer my questions about what happened to Michael" Sophira told him.

"I tried to help him. I did. I wanted him to be able to experience the simple joys of childhood" Ben sighed, rubbing his hand across his face as he moved to sit on the sofa. "There was a darkness inside him and being in this house made it worse. He was a brilliant, always five steps ahead of everyone else but he was curious about who he was and the other spirts, they told him that Tate was his biological father."

"He's not my kid!" Tate glared "I may be fucked up but he's worse than I could ever be".

"Well tough shit, asshole, I'm pretty sure your old enough to know how babies are made and besides, he has your nose." Sophira seethed matching his glare, a spark of anger flickering in her chest and the shadow that rested inside her began to stir. "I take it this one had something to do with him embracing the darkness" she said turning back to Ben.

"I tried to be a father figure to him, I wanted to be, I wanted to give him everything and I had thought that maybe that would be enough, but Michael was always so curious and one day Tate found him going through his things" He said, avoiding eye contact with both of them.

"What did you do?" Sophira asked the blonde boy, swallowing the dread that had started to form in the back of her throat. But the ghosts didn't answer. "Fine" She said, not even finishing the word before she had jumped up and exited the room. Shooting up the stairs as fast as she could in five-inch heels and storming down the hallway before suddenly stopping. Slowly she opened the door and stepped into the room, the energy released by Tate's soul rippled around the room and within the mass of teenage angst, was one that belonged to Michael. Closing her eyes, she reached for the energy, unprepared for the wall of fear, pain and distress that overcame her.

* * *

 _"What are you doing" demanded Tate as he walked into the room. Michael was holding a rubber mask, his finger gently gliding over the fabric. "Stay away from my shit"._

 _"He was just exploring" Ben told the dead teen, he quickly strode into the room as Michael quickly put rubber mask back into the draw, he had found it in._

 _"He's fucked up!" Tate replied to the older man before turning his attention back to the boy, whose eyes were trained on his Dad and Father figure "You stay away from my shit, you understand?"._

 _"I just want to be like you dad" whispered Michael his face full of childlike innocence and confusion._

 _Tate stepped back his chest rapidly rising and falling as he looked at Ben. "Who told you that?"_

 _"Other spirit" Michael muttered, playing with his hands as he turned to Ben for reassurance. "They whispered to me"._

 _Tate snapped. "You didn't spring from my nut sack got it!" he charged at the boy and Ben's arms shot out to grab Tate, pulling him back from Michael. "Not even I could create something as monstrous and evil as you" The boys' eyes locked and you could practically feel the words being seared into Michael brain. "You stay away from me" Tate growled as he exited the room. Ben looked back to Michael watching as he turned, curling into himself as he buried his face into the mattress._

* * *

"Sophira" Ben softly said, lightly placing his hand on her shoulder. He had found her standing in the middle of the room, her eyes rolled into the back of her head while tears tracked down her cheeks.

"I should set my demon on that blonde prick, he's wrong" Sophira seethed, she hadn't been prepared for the intensity of the emotions to overwhelm her, the pain and fear of her friend had been so raw that she wasn't completely sure which emotions were Michaels and which were her own.

"Tate used Michael as an outlet for his frustrations. He's in love with my daughter Violet who stopped talking to him after she found out that he impregnated her mother" Ben explained.

"Wow" Sophira recoiled in shock. "I don't blame her".

"I can't say I do either. But after everything with Tate, Michael slipped away he accepted the darkness and I lost him" Ben answered her honestly "I found him disemboweling spirits and he stopped trying to hold on to the light. Eventually the house was bought again but Michael got scared and dealt with them in the only way he knew how".

"He killed them" Sophira stated as she wiped away the tear stains on her cheeks.

"He didn't just kill them; he erased their souls" Ben sighed "And then I acted without thinking and told him that I was wrong to try and help him"

Ben nodded, a small smile growing on his face. "We never wanted Michael to come to this house, we wanted him to stay away from the evil that comes from it".

"Did you ever believe he himself was evil?"

"I'm a psychiatrist, I've never seen the world in black or white, towards the end I viewed him as a dark shade of grey, truthfully I'll always see Michael as my son, and I'll always love him in some way, I just can't be proud of him or accept what he's doing"

"That's fair" Sophira nodded. "Would you like to see him? Or a memory of him"

Ben pursed his lips for a moment as he considered her offer before nodding. Similar to what she did with Tate she pressed her finger to the Centre of his forehead and Images of her interactions with Michael flowed into his mind.

* * *

 _He saw them chatting as they walked around the hotel Cortez._

 _Walking side by side as they entered the trophy room._

 _Laughing as they cooked and their agreement to officially be friends._

* * *

"He seems happy with you" Ben said when he the images stopped.

"I care about him" She shrugged, her eyes narrowing as Ben raised his eyebrow. "What he's my friend"

"I didn't say anything" he chuckled "I'm glad that you make him happy"

"Well he won't be very happy if he finds out I'm here"

"If you want my advice, just be honest with him, the longer it takes him to find out, the worse it'll be"

"Thank you" She said inhaling deeply, attempting to get the emotions under control. "Just so you know, I'm going to do whatever I can to help him"

"I Truly hope that you can. "

* * *

Unfortunately for Sophira the day didn't get any less stressful once she returned to the Cortez. Once she got home had asked her to handle the front desk before rushing out of the building in order to put out a fire at Will's company. After the renovations had been completed and the Cortez became the epicenter of Will Drakes designs, guests of all manors of politeness would come to stay at hotel, and after an afternoon of covering the front desk and dealing with an unnecessary amount of obnoxious people, all she wanted was a shot of alcohol. Sadly, that to was also interrupted by a tall man with dark brown hair sitting on the bar next to her.

"You look awfully young to be drinking, you sure you can handle it?" he grinned at her.

"I'm older than I look" She said her voice clipped. Unfortunately, the fly didn't get the hint.

"I'm Ashton" he chuckled, extending his hand for her to shake. She looked at the man. He couldn't be older than 25 and judging by his pushy attitude and expensive dress clothes he was used to getting his way.

Maybe she should change that whispered the shadow, a malicious desire growing in her stomach. It would be the perfect high to end the shitty day.

She really shouldn't indulge herself but at this point she didn't particularly care, so you shook the man's hand a coy smile growing on her face. "Sophira".

"Well, Sophira how about I buy you a drink" He smiled leaning back into his seat.

"No need" She smirked, jumping off her stool and gliding behind the bar. "I have access to the bar, so pick your poison".

Over the years she had often found herself amused by how far humans were willing to go to prove they could hold their liquor. Shot after shot, Ashton's inhabitations lowered and Sophira's grin widened. Their whispers became hushed both saying things they thought the other would want to hear. Sophira let him take control of the conversation, leaning in, giggling like a schoolgirl and acting like his boring life was interesting. It was all part of the game, but this game wouldn't have a happy ending.

"You know I have a room here, maybe we should continue this conversation up there". Ashton slurred, sliding a hand up her thigh. Unaware that the girl was fighting the urge to cut off the appendage.

"I thought you'd never ask" She grinned.

* * *

The fake smile on Michael's face fell as soon as he left his final class. Choosing to skip dinner, he quickly raced up the stairs to his bedroom and locked the door. Closing his eyes, he focused on the bond as he reached out to Sophira. Smaller waves of emotion had seeped through the bond during the rest of his lessons, but he had been unable to focus on checking on his friend while also playing the part of the perfect little puppet.

 _"Sophira_?" Michael spoke through the bond and waited for a reply, growing increasingly ore concerned as the minutes ticked by, without an answer. _"Sophira, is something wrong?"._

No answer.

Fuck it, Michael thought after half an hour of trying to be productive. He had felt concern before, towards his grandmother and Miss Mead but this felt different, more intense and it kept growing until he couldn't sit around any longer.

He had told Sophira originally that he wouldn't be able to come over tonight, in case his continuous absence was noticed. Sneaking out had become more difficult as the test of the seven wonders creeped closer. More students approached him in the halls dying for a chance to speak with the supposed alpha but thankfully all the little warlocks had retreated to the dining room for supper, greatly reducing the students whose memory he was forced to wipe, in order to get above ground unnoticed.

* * *

A little over fifteen minutes later Michael walked into the Hotel and followed his instincts up to the fourth floor, walking through the maze of hallways until he spied a maid exiting one of the rooms, the sheets drenched in blood.

"You must be Miss Sophira's friend. She's just in this room, but I must warn you. Terrible mess in there, post-mortem excrement makes quite a stain and I've yet to launder the sheets" The maid told him, her nose wrinkling up as she chuckled.

Furrowing his eyebrows at the women he entered the room, not quite expecting to see his friend sitting on the ground covered in blood. The red liquid mattered her hair and dripped down her face, leaving streaks of blood down her chest, the liquid making her dark dress shine as the wet material stuck to her body like a second skin.

"Hey" She whispered turning to look at him "I thought you were staying in your super-secret lair tonight?"

"I felt your distress through the bond earlier. I thought something happened". He told her, taking in the scene. "What happened here?".

She stood up, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. There was a body in the bathtub, multiple stab wounds adorned the corpses neck and abdomen. The bath was slowly filling with clear water that was lost once it hit the pool of red.

Walking over Sophira bent down, griping the rim of the tub with one hand while she pressed the other to the mans wounded torso. Slowly the abdominal wounds sealed themselves shut but the slice across his neck remained.

"We'll call it in, in the morning. Claim that one of the maids found the body when they went to clean the room. They'll find a knife in the tub when they drain it and the lack of evidence and DNA will force them to call it a suicide." She informed him as if she was reading instructions off a check list.

"You've done this before?"

"Similar things and only to those whose death will be widely noticed, otherwise their bodies are tossed down the shoots" she explained her eyes never leaving the body as she rose. "Killing him was easy. It was fun, I enjoyed it. But he has a family, a little girl, I didn't know, and I took her father away from her." A tear slipped down her cheek as Michael placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her close before extending his power and taking them to her room.

"Thank you" she said "I'm going to go clean up."

It was just over an hour before she came out of her bathroom, her wet hair clinging to the fabric of her tank top.

"You want a drink?" She asked as she grabbed a bottle of vodka. "It doesn't do much but if you haven't eaten and you drink enough then you can get a partially decent buzz going for a while".

"I'll have a drink after you tell me what happened." Michael said, his hands softly wrapping around her wrists and gently pulling her onto the couch.

"I was angry, and I took it out on him." She told him, her voice cracking. "It's the look you know. The look they get when they realize that they invited a wolf dressed in sheepskin into their room, it's intoxicating. But then he used his last ounces of strength to find a picture of his daughter so that she would be the last thing he saw before he bled out. You know when I found out that I was half angel, I was so happy. Cause angels are pure and beautiful and good. I wanted to be good too."

"You are good" Michael whispered.

"No. I'm not. I'm not good." She shook her head.

"Yes, you are. Or at the very least your better than me."

"Your wrong."

"Sophira, I killed you." Michael gripped her neck with one hand and forced her head to turn to face him. "I snapped your neck and you didn't even blink, you still wanted to be friends with me."

"Yeah, you're not the only person who's attempted to kill me and you're not the only one I've forgiven. Besides you're not much of a threat." she told him, a small smile gracing the corners of her mouth.

"And that makes you either incredibly stupid or someone who tries to see something positive in people" Michael huffed in amusement. "But seriously you need to stop forgiving people who try to kill you, that's not okay."

"You'll be the last person I forgive for attempted murder then." Sophira smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

They sat in silence for a moment, passing the bottle of tequila back and forth, enjoying the burn of the alcohol before Sophira spoke up and Michael tensed at her words. "I went to your old house today". The room grew still as Sophira continued. "I wanted to hear their sides of the story."

"You knew I was telling the truth about what happened". He whispered, his voice like ice.

"I did, but sometimes people only know or only believe in one side of the truth. So, I went to hear from the other perspective."

"And did you find your supposed truth." He muttered and Sophira didn't think it was possible to see someone withdraw into themselves so much without physically moving.

"I found out what you did to those souls. And I also found out that Tate's the definition of an angsty teen and I may have threatened to set a demon on him"

"You what?!" Michael exclaimed his head shooting up.

"I brought the demon that lives in the hotel with me as a bargaining chip. Although I'm glad your step-dad didn't call my bluff cause the demon only really attacks addicts." She chuckled nervously before lowering her voice. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"You're not mad at me for destroying those souls." He whispered turning to face her.

"I'm not overjoyed but I'm not mad. I guess I have a pretty fucked up outlook on most things concerning children, which likely comes from my Mothers tendency to collect neglected and abused children."

"That's a very pretty way to describe kidnapping."

"Okay you can take that up with her, you won't win but you can try to convince her it was kidnapping. She believes she saved them and in the beginning she did but her own choices got Cameron and Connor killed for nothing and then Wren got hit by a truck, which technically was her own fault but she didn't want to live as an afflicted anymore."

"You miss them?"

"Everyday" she said a small smile on her lips. "They were my siblings and the only truly good things in my life after Amora died. Losing them felt like losing a limb."

"I'm sorry you had to lose them."

"Don't say sorry, it's not your fault they died."

"Seriously, you apologize for everything." He looked at her incredulously.

"Yeah, the whole wolf in sheep's clothing is kind of my thing" She giggled. "And you can't steal my thing"

"Your ridiculous, why am I friends with you again" Michael rolled his eyes.

"Because I'm the best and you love me." Sang the girl in front of him and he smiled.

"Definitely not true" He smirked.

Grinning she reached over him and grabbed the bottle of clear liquid and whispered in his ear. "Careful, I know when you're lying".

* * *

Later that night Michael set on the floor by the sofa, watching Sophira as she slept. Attempting to sort out the emotions that roared in his chest at her presence.

"You have to know what you do to me" He whispered to the sleeping girl. "What you make me feel."

Slowly he stood and walked through the door. He didn't intend to go back to the Hawthorn school, his teachers would have to deal with his absence because tonight he had two matters of business to attend to.

The first would be down on the fourth floor.

And the second would require him to go down even lower.

* * *

 **So I can officially say that we've finished the cannon content of episode four and the next chapters will be more exciting and less filler content, so everyone can be more excited for the many introductions that will take place in the next chapter.**

 **Have a fantastic day guys!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I suck at uploading, we know this and I apologize.**

* * *

Her dream that night was filled with the terrors of her memories.

 _Trees cloaked in shadow pierced through the sky, blocking out the moonlight as she sprinted desperately through the forest but never actually getting anywhere. Shrikes cut through the forest, drilling the harsh Latin into her ears making them burn and leak dark blood that seemed to boil against her skin._

 _Panting she burst into the clearing, her heart freezing in terror, refusing to beat as she gazed upon the older girl being pulled off the ground by her thick black curls._

 _Every time she slept the girl would scream at her. Variations of words that her mind had_

 _tried to make her forget;_

 _'go'_

 _'run'_

 _'leave me'_

 _'save yourself'_

 _She listened. Every time she had always listened, at first, she always ran but as the years went by, she managed to force her subconscious out of the dreamscape._

 _She knew what would happen if she let the dream continue, the creature that radiated divine light, would pierce Amora's back with the head of a spear, thrusting it through the layer of flesh, muscle and bone and into her heart where golden flames would spring to life and spread across her body before he would use the broadsword resting at his hip to sever Amora's head from her body._

 _But this time she was unable to exit the dream, the Angel looked up, freezing her in place and forcing her to hold the weight of the golden orbs that pierced her mind almost as if he was trying to tell her something. Slowly he raised his arm, broadsword in hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes widened as the black curly hair morphed into soft golden waves. A shout formed in her throat as she tried to force her way through the trees and into the clearing as the Angel's sword glided through Michael's neck._

* * *

She flew from her place on the couch, a layer of sweat plastered her hair to her neck and her stomach rolled causing her to dash for the bathroom to expel the latest installment of nearly thirty years of fear. Slowly she rinsed her mouth out and crawled into the shower, not even bothering to take off her old clothes as she let the boiling water pour over her.

Sighing her mind wandered over the dream. Night terrors of the day Amora was killed by an Angel weren't uncommon. She had practically became a zombie the first decade after the event had taken place; the image of the Angel and the presence that radiated off him had struck a bone deep primal fear in her that plagued her nightmares and had caused her to avoid sleeping for days on end. She had gotten better eventually; the nightmares never went away but she had learnt to deal with them enough to allow her a handful of hours every night.

Michael's presence in her nightmares was definitely new and the Angel had never watched her quite so intensely before. 'it must have meant something' she thought as she stared up at the ceiling through the cascade of water that fell from the spout. Many people said that dreams were messages from ones subconscious but for all her intelligence she couldn't understand what her mind was telling her.

She'd be the first to admit that she wasn't the most emotionally conscious person in the world but the thought of seeing Michael slain caused an emotion to well up in her chest that she couldn't identify and had her reaching for the soothing comfort of the bond that laid between them. She watched the pale blue light dance and hum vibrations behind her eyes, and she reached out slowly, tentatively feeling for his soul, a small smile spreading across her face as she felt him reach out in response.

 _'Are you okay?'_ his voice reverberated in her mind and she felt his presence coming to rest in the front of her head.

 _'I'll be fine, it was just a nightmare_ ' she deflected not willing to go into any detail about how the change in her nightmare scared her _. 'How did you go getting back last night, did your teachers lecture you about sneaking out'._

 _'I'm sure they will once I get back_ '. He told her; humor evident in his voice. _'Come down to the lobby when you're ready'._

As his presence reseeded and her mind sharpened, she became aware of the steady pulse of his magic on the floors below her, something that she had blocked out in her panicked state. Sighing she dragged herself out of the shower. The sooner she pulled herself together the sooner she could find out what was going on.

* * *

What she expected to see when the doors of the elevator opened at the lobby was Michael waiting by himself, possibly talking to Iris or one of the ghosts whose curiosity had won out over their apprehension of approaching someone powerful enough to snap her neck.

What she actually saw left her gaping as if someone had poured ice water down her back; for never in her life did she expect to see Michael crouching in front of a small group of children that she had thought she'd never see again.

Her darling siblings.

Tears prickled her eyes and her heart thundered in her chest so fast she could have sworn it was trying to break free from her body. She watched as Michael's eyes darted towards her and he pointed his finger, directing the children's attentions towards her; as their eyes landed on her, smiles lit up their small faces and they rushed towards her, breaking her out of her stupor as she fell to her knees in order to embrace them.

"How?!" she checked out as she attempted to pull all three young blondes as close to her body as she could.

"That man came and got us" Cameron whispered to her.

"Yeah he said he was gonna take us back to you and mommy." Conner added and beside them Wren nodded in silent agreement.

"I see" she whispered looking down at them, taking their small forms in as she realized that their auras were that of humans not the afflicted. "You're not vampires anymore." she sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes."

"The vampire blood was only in their original bodies, so they could only be brought back as humans." Michael said, walking over to them.

"Good, that's good" she whispered smiling softly as she rose to her feet "Hey why don't you go see Iris in the kitchen and then we'll go see Mommy okay" she said, shepherding them towards the doors.

Before Michael could say anything, she had flung her arms around his neck and she rested her head on his chest, holding him as close as she had held his siblings. Nerves fluttered in his stomach as he hesitantly reciprocated her embrace, a warmth spread through his chest and he was distantly aware of his heart picking up speed.

"Thank you." she whispered into his chest. "I don't think I can ever repay you for what you did".

"It's fine." he mumbled, lowering his head so that it rested lightly on her hair. "Also, the guy you killed" he mentioned, noting how he could feel her whole body stiffen against him. "He checked out and hour ago."

"What?!" she exclaimed jerking back so that she could look at him in the eye, resting her hands on his forearms while his fell down to her waist. "You brought him back as well."

"Well for that one I do expect a lifetime supply of French toast" he told her seriously, the side of his mouth turning up as she laughed.

"With your appetite you'd make the hotel go bankrupt in a week" she teased "but I guess we could find some way to make it work".

Suddenly the kitchen door bust open causing the two to quickly separate as Sophia's siblings ran out, their mouths full of treats that they had received from Iris who followed them out, gazing at them in disbelief.

"Sophira, how- how are they here?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the resurrected youths that she had taken care of for years. "I didn't think you could bring people back".

She shook her head "I still can't; it was Michael who brought them back".

"I-I don't really know what to say," She stammered "but thank you, Michael, for bringing them back".

"It was nothing." he deflected as the older women excused herself and made her way over to the group of blondes.

"Nonsense." Sophira spoke, smiling from ear to ear as she watched her siblings run off towards the elevator, eager to see their mother. "Excluding my father and some of his minions, everyone here will be thrilled to have them back, miracles don't frequent the land of the dead so when they happen they mean a lot to us; especially me" she said, her voice quieting to a whisper as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering for a second before pulling away "Come, my mother will want to thank you as well." taking his hand she lead him over to the elevator while praying that he couldn't see the faint heat that was darkening her cheeks.

* * *

The Countess of the Hotel Cortez was a cold woman. Due to decades of disappointment, mourning and heartache, her will was shrouded in iron and bound in steel allowing very few things to bring her joy. As a child Sophira had adored her the women who had raised her in place of a disinterested psychotic father and a dead mother and while the blind adoration was no longer present, she still felt a great sense of love and respect towards her.

Which is why she elected to leave Michael in her own room.

"Why am I being hidden away like your dirty little secret?" he inquired when she informed him of where he was to wait.

"Because as much as my mother adores attractive men, she hates people knowing that as small as her heart maybe it does exist". She stressed, opening the door and motioning for him to step over the threshold.

"You think I'm attractive" Michael teased her, delighting in the spark of exasperation and amusement that burned in her eyes.

"Shut up and get in the room, I promise, i'll come get you soon."

"Sure but just quickly, do you want me to hide in the closet, because I think it'll really sell the dirty secret imagery".

"If I find you in my closet, I'm going to assume you were sniffing my underwear and you will never hear the end of it."

* * *

When the door opened next it wasn't Sophira who walked in.

The women were tall and beautiful with blood red lips and hair the tumbled in waves over her shoulder, elegantly framing her ageless face. He watched as the ghost entered the room and despite his status as the prince of hell, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit intimidated by the person who raised one of the two most important people in his life.

"I suppose I have you to thank for bringing my children back to me" she stated. "I'm the Countess and you must be Michael."

"I am" He watched as she lowered herself onto one of the sleek white couches, never breaking eye contact with him.

"Michael, you have my deepest gratitude for what you did" hints of warmth sparks into her eyes at the mention of her babies. "After more than a century of existing the only comfort I have is that which I receive from my children, they are the only things I love that remain in this world and I will protect them from anything, which is why I want to know why you brought back three children that you didn't even know existed".

The silence stretched out around them, as thoughts raced behind Michael's eyes, there were dozens of excuses that he could give her, reasons of why he did what he did but the only thing that would somewhat placate the creature sitting in front of him was the truth. "I did it for Sophira".

"You want something from her? Want her to owe you something? Or feel like she's indebted to you?".

"No, it's not like that" he said, his words rushing out at a faster pace than he would have liked. The Countess was right, any of the things she listed were things he could use against Sophira, hell if it was anyone else, he would use those things against them. But the thought of blackmailing her, holding the lives of people she loves against her made his stomach twist.

Elizabeth assessed him quietly, she may not be able to judge a person's words based on their heartbeat anymore, but she had been around long enough to seek out the conviction and truth in a person's eyes. "You care about my daughter".

His eyes rose to meet hers and he nodded "She's the first and only friend I have".

"And you want her to be happy, you brought the children back because they would bring her joy".

"I did".

"Well then Michael you chose the right thing, Sophira cares about children more than anything, and I despite not mentioning it I wouldn't be at all surprised if she considered having one of her own within the next handful of decades, it's a shame she won't be able to see that dream come about if you succeed in ending the world".

"I may end this world, but I'll raze a new world from the ashes of the old, she'll never have to give up any of her dreams, anything that could bring her happiness I would give her myself".

"The world you would give her will be built on the cadavers of over six million people, most of which will be children, she may try to deny it but I know my daughter and the second she steps foot in your new world will be the second that she starts to hate you."

* * *

"She didn't say anything rude, did she?" Sophira asked as she slipped back into the room shortly after Elizabeth had excused herself.

"She was suspicious of why I did it."

"Don't take it personally." she said, lightly rubbing his arm as she walked into her room. "She'd be suspicious if I gave her a gift on a non-celebratory day."

"She doesn't like me." He called, sitting on her bed as he watched her shift through dresses she could wear to dinner with her father.

"She doesn't like anyone, although if it makes you feel better my father adores you which ironically will make my mother hate you even more".

"How much your father likes me is a determining factor?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Elizabeth had my last name changed to hers after dad died, she claimed it was so I wasn't associated with a serial killer but really it was because she couldn't love something that was his."

"She does know how children are made doesn't she."

"As far as she's concerned both mine and my brothers' conceptions were a little more immaculate than originally thought" she sighed, watching as Michael walked over to her, his eyes were dull as he looked into a display stand of sparkling diamonds and jewels.

"Fancy yourself a ring"

"Why do you have men's jewelry" he inquired, gazing at the larger rings that were classically more masculine in shape and style.

"For my many male friends, gold digging goes both ways you know". She joked, her smile fading as Michael's face remained passive and the walls behind his eyes remained raised.

"She did say something, didn't she"?

It wasn't a question he noted, she knew something was grating on him, but he had no desire to tell her exactly what the countess had said because he had no idea what he would do if there was even the slight chance of a confirmation. "It's fine".

"It's not fine, she shouldn't be rude to you after what you went out of your way to do". she stressed.

"I don't care if she's happy or grateful that their back, your reaction is the only thing I care about". He insisted.

"And very few moments will be able to surpass the happiness I feel right now".

"I'm glad" he said, the dullness of his eyes fading slightly. "You know I'll do whatever I can to make you happy".

"You're a good person Michael, I hope you can see that, and I hope you know that if there's something I can do to make you happy then I want to do it".

Wells of emotion swarmed inside of him at her words and he had to swallow a lump that formed in his throat that formed from the affection and sincerity he felt flowing through their bond. "Come to the school tomorrow night" he blurted out, "The warlocks are doing this blessing for me, you should come to it, and the test as well".

"A blessing?"

"It's like a warlock thing, very private, big strong males only".

"Michael, I don't know if you realize but I do identify as a female".

"Well you hide the fact that you're a female about as well as I hide the fact that I'm a warlock, so come you can hide above the foyer and viciously mock the entire thing".

"You certainly know how to charm a girl Langdon, I'll be there".

* * *

"We gather on the cusp of the blood moon to anoint and protect our brother before he undergoes the rigors of the seven wonders" Ariel decreed to the room of warlocks. "Let the blessings begin!"

"Salt from earth" Baldwin declared as he poured a handful of rock salt into a small bowel. "May all hindrance and malignity be cast forth hence and let all good enter".

"Water from the sea" John Henry spoke next, never relenting his suspicious gaze as drops of water fell from between his fingers into the bowel.

"To cleanse all impurity's and uncleanliness" Baldwin explained and from her spot on the catwalk Sophira grinned at the irony of what was being said.

"Blood from the body". Ariel spoke as he pierced his flesh with a silver knife, letting rivulets of blood fall into the bowel, staining the salt and dying the water.

"To protect the soul" Baldwin said, smiling at Michael before poring the mixture in a circle around him. "let the fire illuminate our hearts and spirits and minds so that all darkness and cold retire herein." Brilliant blue flames sprung up around Michael, lighting up the room.

"I conjure the circle of power to be a place of protection, a circle to confer the blessings of all warlocks. May you be imbued with wisdom, perseverance, strength and courage." Ariel's voice boomed throughout the room as Michael smiled graciously at him.

"I accept the blessings" Michael spoke. "May I be worthy to the test". Fire burst from the pit behind him and the foyer erupted, filled with the cheering and hollering of the dozen teenage boys as they ran over Michael, patting him on the back and praising him.

She watched as the lights flickered and Michael's aura swelled slightly in the way that it did when his eyes turned to pitch, hardly noticeable in the commotion if you weren't paying attention.

Dread swelled in her gut as she walked back to Michael's room, the minutes ticked by and the anxiety she felt increased and the shadow in her soul ebbed its way through her bones as visions of John Henry flooded through her mind until she could recall the death of the teacher in perfect clarity, almost as if she was there herself.

* * *

It was almost an hour before Michael returned to the room, she had felt him leave the complex, meeting up with Ariel and another woman, before coming back down to see her.

"Hey" he said pulling her up from his bed, "come with me, theirs someone I want you to meet".

The walk from the school's entrance to the road was more terrifying then she'd like to admit, the trees grew and twisted in the dark and she could feel her lungs struggle to take in breath.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Michael asked turning her to face him.

"Um…forests and large groups of trees…they just…" she trailed off, "Amora was killed in a forest." She finally whispered and she felt Michael's grip on her shoulders tighten.

"You're with me okay, I'm the most powerful thing in this woods, nothing's going to harm you" she told her and she nodded as he brought her closer to him and picked up his pace, to the car that was waiting for them.

Thoughts and fears pounded through her mind as they arrived at a black car, and her heart stopped in her chest as the driver stepped out, revealing the women from her visions, the women who had persuaded her friend to follow a path that would lead to nothing but darkness and despair.

Fragments of understanding fell into place as she recalled her dream. She hadn't interfered when Amora died, she had been compliant, had allowed it to happen and if she didn't interfere this time then Michael would die too.

 _'I'm the most powerful thing in these woods_ ' his words echoed in her mind. 'Your right Michael' she thought, 'you are the most powerful thing in these woods but you're not the most powerful thing in this world'.


End file.
